Connectivity

by Aven Ellis

  I see hurt in William’s beautiful eyes. He looks pained, as if I had just punched him hard in the gut. He remains silent for a moment, his eyes searching mine, and I feel frozen in place. Like part of me wants to take back what I said, but part of me needs to hear him respond.

  He swallows hard and finally, after what seems like an eternity, he speaks.

  “You,” he says, his voice taking on an angry edge, “are supposed to know me better than anyone, Mary-Kate. Jesus, can you not tell how I feel about you? Have I not shown you how I feel?”

  I feel my eyes well with fresh tears. As I gaze into his eyes and see the hurt and anger reflected in them, I wonder if this is some horrible misunderstanding. That the man I know—the William I know—could not have a life without me.

  “The fact that you even think that I am capable of this makes me question everything between us,” William says, his voice growing stronger. “That you could even contemplate this idea in your head for more than a split second is beyond me.”

  Bam! I jerk my head as if he had just slapped me. And I feel nothing but fury and pain.

  “I am not a fucking mind reader!” I scream at him. “I deserve to know where I stand. And I half wonder if you arranged the job at the Beautiful Homes Network to soften the blow of you leaving me!”

  “Have you gone stark-raving mad?” William cries. “That is utterly ridiculous, Mary-Kate! Are you listening to yourself?”

  “That’s right, William. I must be mad in the head to wonder where I stand when you have made a point to say absolutely nothing about a future with me! And you know what? I can’t do this.”

  I go to move past him. I have to get out of here before I say something I cannot take back. I feel out of control and I have to get out and think.

  “No, you are not leaving,” William commands, his voice cold.

  “I am not a transaction! You can’t make me stay here just because you say so!”

  William reaches out to grab my arm but I angrily slap it away.

  “Do not touch me!” I storm down the hall and William follows. I go to the bedroom and grab my purse, and then my overnight bag, angrily throwing my things into it.

  “Mary-Kate, you need to stop it. Stop it right now,” William commands firmly.

  “Why? Are you going to tell me how you feel? That I got this all wrong?”

  “I,” William says, his voice shaking in anger, “will not be told when I should say what I feel. And I would never say anything under a threat like this.”

  “Oh my God, you think this is a threat?” I ask, incredulous.

  “Isn’t it? Tell you how I feel or you walk out? Well, I loathe demands, Mary-Kate!”

  “That is insane, William!”

  “This whole argument is insane and insulting,” William snaps back. He takes an aggravated sounding breath and puts his fingertips over his lips. “Do not walk out like this.”

  “I cannot deal with this. I have to get out of here. I have to think!” I cry, a sob escaping my throat.

  I rush past him and hurry to the door. I hear him behind me and just as I open it, William reaches over my head and slams it shut with his palm.

  “Do not leave,” William commands.

  “Or what?” I challenge.

  William is silent for a moment, his eyes flickering angrily. “If you leave, I will not take you back. If you make the decision to walk away from me, I will not accept your phone calls or texts or messages. It’s done if you walk out this door, Mary-Kate. I mean it.”

  Oh God. I am so torn up and so angry and shattered I can’t think straight. I can’t see straight. I can’t breathe and I feel dizzy.

  “Maybe this never should have happened,” I say, crying. “This . . . us . . . we never should have been together. Maybe this was—”

  “An accident?” William finishes for me, nothing but hurt reflected in his eyes.

  “I didn’t say that!” I sob, knowing how badly that comment hurt him.

  “You might as well have,” William says.

  “I can’t do this,” I say, whirling around and jerking open the door.

  I step through it and whirl around, staring at him. I swallow down the huge lump in my throat, praying he stops me. Praying he just tells me I misunderstood, he loves me, that there is a future.

  But he just stares back at me, silent.

  And his silence tells me everything I need to know.

  “Goodbye, William,” I say, my voice breaking.

  I run to the elevator, frantically punching the button, and leave William—and the life I dreamed of having with him—behind.

  Chapter 31

  I tear out of William’s building in a state of shock.

  I don’t even know where I am going, and everything around me is blurred through my tears. I walk briskly toward Millennium Park, needing to escape, needing to be alone, needing to think.

  I hurry through the park and keep going until I find a quiet spot surrounded by blooming tulips in the Lurie Garden.

  I sit down, wiping the tears from my eyes with my shaking hands, and draw a breath of air as panic consumes me.

  What just happened? My God, did we really just break up?

  I begin to sob. I draw my knees to my chest, tuck my head down, and cry my eyes out in the park, wondering how it all came to this.

  My thoughts are all jumbled and conflicted in my head. I finally stop crying, I don’t think I can cry another tear, and take a deep breath. I mentally go through the evidence. The airline ticket, the penthouse for sale, they all scream he was leaving without me.

  Don’t they?

  After all, William didn’t mention any of these plans to me. And he went out of his way so I wouldn’t know about them.

  But when I confronted him, William appeared visibly wounded. He seemed absolutely shocked I could think him capable of such a thing. I saw that in his expressive eyes. Were those the eyes of a man who was caught red-handed? Were those the eyes of a man who didn’t love me? Were those the eyes of a man who was leaving me behind?

  No, I think slowly as my thoughts slow down. Even though he refused to say it, those were the eyes of a man who loved me.

  A sharp stabbing pain rips at my heart. I frantically unzip my overnight bag, rifling through it, and withdraw the charm bracelet he gave me from London. I study each charm that he carefully selected, each charm telling our story.

  Our story.

  A sob escapes my throat. As I see the sunlight glinting on my beautiful bracelet, I realize how badly I just fucked everything up.

  I know William loves me.

  I know he must have some reason for the ticket and the penthouse being for sale.

  I know he must have a reason for not telling me his plans.

  Because no man would treat me the way William has if he didn’t love me and plan to have a future with me.

  I clutch the bracelet and begin to shake. I’d been so blindsided by what I found in his office that I couldn’t see straight. All I’d felt was fear. Intense, crippling fear that I would lose the one thing that mattered to me above anything else in this world.

  William.

  For so long, I told myself I was avoiding love because it would mess up my career. I was convinced love would derail me, cause me to lose focus, and that I would sacrifice my independence for love.

  But nothing could be further from the truth.

  I wasn’t avoiding love, I realize with a shaking breath. I just never found it until I found William.

  And when I did find love, everything in my life blossomed. I found myself pursuing a new career path, different than what I had planned but one that brought me joy and success. My blog flourished, I have a new job, and I am making new friends who enrich my life for the better.
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  All of that happened because of love.

  Love didn’t ruin my career or distract me. To the contrary, love made me a better person, a more rounded person, a happier person.

  But fear of losing that love cost me the only thing on this earth that matters to me.

  I lost William.

  I lift my tear-stained face and look up at the sky above. Birds are flying around me, swooping through the air and singing melodies. The late-May sun is slowly warming the earth this morning, and the skies are a gorgeous blue over Chicago.

  The world is going on, but my world has just stopped. My heart is shattered beyond repair.

  And everything is my fault.

  I stare back down at my bracelet, and a torrent of fresh tears threaten to break loose. William made it very clear—painfully clear—that if I left he would never take me back.

  And instead of calming down on the spot and talking to him like a normal, mature person, I ran. I ran to save myself the pain of hearing him say he would leave for London without me. Which now, with a broken heart, I realize was not the case.

  I fight for air as panic hits me full force. There is nothing I can do to change his mind. William says what he means. He doesn’t go back on his word. We are over, and there is nothing I can do to change that.

  But . . . but I can’t let this go. No, I will not let this go. William is going to hear just what is in my heart and how I wish I could have the chance to do this all over again. That I made a mistake, one he sees as unforgivable, and I regret what I did and what I said with every fiber of my being. That I wish I could see him again to tell him how sorry I am and how I wish I could make things right. I want to tell him although I know he will never love me again, I will always be thankful for the time I was with him.

  He deserves to know that.

  Most of all, I will tell him I love him. I love him with everything I have and I always will, even if he will never look at me in the same way ever again.

  I fight back my tears and swallow hard. I pick up my stuff and stand up, knowing what I have to do.

  I have to write him a letter to let him go.

  I sit with my iPad in my lap, a box of tissues next to me, and a glass of wine on my nightstand. It is Monday night, and after spending all of Sunday evening crying and not sleeping, I somehow made it through the first day back at the office with William officially gone and moved back to London, his vacant office a sight that nearly brought me to my knees when I realized he would never come back here again.

  A fresh batch of tears prick my eyes.

  I will never see him again. Oh, sure, when he comes to Chicago for business I might run into him, but that would be it.

  Oh my God. I cannot even fathom that. Just bumping into him, just saying hello and how is life treating you and then goodbye?

  No. I can’t. I can’t. My heart starts pounding. How can I face this new life? How can I be Mary-Kate without William?

  You’re not Mary-Kate anymore, a voice inside my head whispers. That is who you were with William. You are MK now.

  Oh God. I move the iPad and bury my head in my hands, sobs racking my body again.

  Suddenly, my cell rings. I reach for it on my nightstand.

  I am stunned to see the caller is Claire Cumberland.

  I freeze. Claire? It is in the wee hours in the morning in England. Oh God, she knows! What is she going to say?

  I can barely think over the pounding of my heart. I answer the phone and I hear my voice shake as I answer it.

  “Hello?” I croak.

  “Mary-Kate,” Claire’s familiar voice says. “I did not wait this long to find a potential sister-in-law who could cook a smashing Christmas meal like Nigella Lawson and lose her because the two of you are having a silly row!”

  I freeze. “You . . . you’ve talked to William?”

  “He’s over here right now,” Claire says. “William said he had something important to tell us a week ago, and arranged to come over when he got in from the States, but when he came in, he said you two had a horrible row, that you were broken up, and to never mention your name ever again.”

  I burst into tears at that point.

  “Mary-Kate, stop,” Claire commands. “I had Rupert ply him full of scotch so he would he would talk.”

  “What?” I gasp. “William doesn’t get drunk!”

  “He does when his heart is broken,” Claire says slowly. “In fact, we had a heart-to-heart before he passed out in my living room. He told me what happened, Mary-Kate.”

  I can’t keep my voice from shaking. “It’s all my fault. I . . . I should have . . . I should have known . . .” I can’t even finish the sentence without sobbing.

  “Mary-Kate, yes, you should have trusted him,” Claire says honestly. “But he didn’t exactly help you out, did he?”

  “What?”

  “I asked William if he told you his reasons for his actions or how he felt about you,” Claire says. “And when he admitted he didn’t, I told him you were both bloody fools who needed to go sit on a naughty step and then work this out, but this time as adults and not children.”

  For the first time in two days, I feel a brief flicker of hope in my heart.

  “Claire,” I whisper, “do . . . do you think I still have a chance? What did he say?”

  “Mary-Kate, William is my brother-in-law. Who was drunk and babbling on my living room floor, so I am not going to disclose the personal things he said. But I will say this. If you want to fight for him, then do it. Do it now.”

  And just like that, my tears stop. A fire is lit underneath me. I feel hope that maybe, just maybe, I can win back the only thing that ever mattered to me.

  “Claire,” I say, “I have just one favor to ask you. Just one.”

  “What is that?”

  “Have William read my blog tomorrow.”

  Chapter 32

  Sitting alone in my apartment, I stare at my blog responses on Friday night. I sift through the new ones, desperately searching for the one response I want more than anything on this earth.

  One from William.

  Yet since I posted the blog on Monday night, I have heard nothing from him. No response. No phone call. No text. I watch as the words go blurry in front of my eyes. I squeeze them shut, feeling them well with tears, as they have every day since I stupidly walked out on the man I love.

  He’s not coming back. William meant what he said.

  I have talked to Claire several times this week. She has been my lifeline, my one ray of hope that maybe I could make things right. She keeps telling me to let him sort it out, that William has his own way and timetable of dealing with things, but I know it is done.

  I glance at the clock on my phone. I am supposed to talk to Claire tonight, and she said she would call me, but I don’t think I can talk to her or anyone else tonight. I would just have to tell her I know William better than anyone, and my part in William’s story is over. Forever. He has turned the page and moved on without me.

  I swallow hard. He has blown out the candle. What slight flicker I had left after writing the blog has been completely snuffed out.

  I have to accept the fact that pouring my heart out in my blog didn’t have the effect that I had prayed every night for since I wrote it.

  I scroll past all of my readers comments—from those sending hugs, those telling me I can do better, those telling me time will heal my heart—to the actual post itself and I re-read it for what seems like the millionth time.

  A Message for Mr. X

  Dear Readers,

  I apologize in advance. This is not going to be my usual blog about cooking and decorating and making your home a beautiful place, one that is warm and welcoming, one that renews your spirit, one that makes you feel cozy a
nd secure and happy.

  This blog is about the one person who made me feel, for the first time in my heart, the passion, the joy, the comfort, and the complete gift of true love.

  I had heard of this kind of love before but never knew it. I didn’t believe I needed or even wanted love in my life until I found it with Mr. X.

  You all have read about him in the blog many times. Mr. X, my boss. Mr. X, who slowly became more than a boss to me, as I am sure some of you could see happening even before I did through my words on this page.

  Mr. X inspired me, challenged me, and saw me in a way nobody else ever has. Mr. X is smart and dashing and sophisticated. He made me laugh. He made me the happiest I have ever been. Mr. X has seen the world, and let me see it through his eyes, too.

  I fell madly in love with Mr. X. I gave him everything I am, except for one thing, one thing that led me to lose him and shattered my heart in the process.

  I didn’t give him the benefit of the doubt when I should have.

  I have a temper. I admit that. And when I saw things that I thought meant I was about to lose the only man I have ever loved, the only man I could ever see a future with, I was devastated. And the fear of losing him caused me to react horribly and accuse Mr. X of awful things. I am sick about my behavior and so deeply sorry. If I could take back my words, if I could have stayed instead of running away in fear, if I could have just talked to him and been rational, we would still be together right now.

  But instead I am facing a future I don’t want to face.

  I am facing a future without the one man who helped me dream, to feel true love, to bring me such joy and happiness I often felt my heart would burst.

  I have cried more tears this week than I dreamed possible. The world just seems gray. I might have to accept the fact that Mr. X will move on without me, a thought, which brings me so much anguish I can hardly breathe. My heart is broken, utterly broken.